Why I hate the colour Red
Daily Poem
Covered in welts, I will never forget how you assaulted me. When I'm older, at the altar, waiting to be wed, the roses in the corner will wink right back at me. Hands on her hips, my conjoined twin fused at our lips— even then, that bleeding from my face will fail to fade. How I lay (passive) while you looked (down) at me, dazed to death, after you stole, smothered, smeared my love with each kiss and layer of lipstick. I miss it.
Perfect parentheses!! Great impact at the end.
Last stanza is my favorite. I liked your use of parentheses, it breaks it up, which I like, and adds to the imagery in my mind, and the imagery continues with that "stole, smothered, smeared... each layer of lipstick." Love that. I also think the earlier stanzas could have done with less pronouns or otherwise contextual language, I'll edit my own version of the second and third stanza to see what you think, you might not like it, but just in case you find something you do like in it, here's my edit:
When I'm older,
at altar,
roses winking
and I wed,
winking,
roses winking back.
Hands on hips,
my conjoined twin
fused lips—and even then,
bleeding face
failing to fade.